bChapter /bb133/bb: /bbXavier /bbPOV /b

    She bdoesn’t /bbspeak /bright away.

    135

    bShe /bbjust /bsits there, with her fingers resting against the base of her water bss /blike she needs the coolness to anchor her. Her eyes then bdrop /bto the space on the table between usb, /bwith hershes low,

    band /bher mouth soft but unreadable.

    And I wait. Because doing anything more would be selfish of me.

    Finallyb, /bshe draws in a breath that’s deep and measured. Her lips part, then close again, like she’s testing the shape of her response before giving it life. “I didn’t need an apology,” she bsays /bquietly. “Not anymore.”

    Her simple words don’t sting, but theynd hard, right in between my ribs.

    Then she lifts her gaze to mine, and there’s no malice there. No bitterness. Just something quieter,

    and way too wise when you take her age into ount. “But I think I always wanted one.”

    bI /bnod slowly. But I still don’t speak, because I can sense she’s not done.

    “I don’t think you realize what it felt like,” she continues. “To walk into a room I didn’t want to be

    in, wearing a dress I wasn’t sure about, with a smile I barely held together…only to be looked at like

    bI /bwas already a disappointment.b” /b

    Her voice doesn’t crack as she says the words, but my chest does–into a million little pieces.

    “And then,b” /bshe badds /bbas /bshe tilts her head slightlyb, /b“to have that look turn into an insult, and then a

    bthreat/bb, /bball /bbefore dessert was even served? It wasn’t just mean, Xavier. It was calcted and cruelb, /b

    bYou /bmade bisure /i/bbI /bbfelt /bsmall and insignificant.b” /b

    bI /bbcan’t /bbargue/bb, /band I wouldn’t even try, because everything she’s saying is true.

    “bBut/bb…/bb” /bbShe /bexhales slowlyb, /band bthe /btension in her shoulders loosens. “You also didn’t have to bbring /bme back hereb. /bYou didn’t ihave /ito remember the details, Or say the things I think bI /bgave bup hoping /bbyou’d /bever bsay/bb./bb” /b

    She lets those words hang between bus /bbfor /ba second bas /bher fingers brush the edge bof /bher teb. /bb“/bbI /bdon’t know what this is yet,b” /bshe continuesb, /balmost bas /bif to herselfb. /bb“/bBut I bknow /bbit /bfeels different now. bAnd /bbI /bbcan /btell you mean it.”

    b19:46 /bbMon/bb, /bbSep /b15

    Chapter 133: Xavier POV

    Our beyes /bmeet thenb, /band something tightens between us again, not like before, and not with pain. But something else entirely. Something that burns low and real.

    b35 /b

    “I’m d you brought me hereb,/bb” /bshe finishes, and her voice is softer now than it’s been all morning.

    I don’t breathe for a second as I watch her. Then I say, quietly, “Me too.”

    Without another word, I signal the waiter with a subtle nod.

    La raises an eyebrow slightly at my action, but doesn’t ask. She just watches me over the rim of her water ss, but her lips barely touch the edge. Her expression is calmer now, but I don’t mistake it for peace. This isn’t fixed. It’s not even close.

    But imaybe /iwe’re past the wreckage.

    When the waiter returns, I speak in a hushed voice, “She’ll have the coconut–pineapple cardamom

    cooler.”

    The air between us stills as realization sets in for her. Then La blinks, and her eyes narrow just a

    fraction. “How did you know…?”

    “You mentioned it once,” I say, shrugging. “You were talking to Moira in the kitchen while you were making lunch together. You said that Ba raved about it to you, and that this ce was the only

    one that made it.”

    She’s still watching me, but now there’s a different kind of weight behind her stare.

    The waiter draws my attention when he asks, “And for dessert, sir?”

    But I don’t look away from her, as bI /bsay, “She didn’t get to orderst time we were here. So we’ll

    share the dark chocte chili fondant. The one with the blood orange sorbet.”

    With a slight head nod, the waiter leaves quietly, but I barely notice.

    All I’m able to focus on his her breath catching, and even though it’s faint, I notice it. As I do with

    all things rted to her.

    “That was the special that night,” she says slowly, her voice half a whisper.

    I nod once. “I noticed you looking at it before you stood up to leave. I even thought about bstopping /byou and apologizing. But like the asshole I was, I didn’t. I just sat there like a goddamn coward while

    b19:46 /bbMon/bb, /bbSep /bb15 /b

    Chapter 133: Xavier POV

    you walked out.”

    35

    I lean forward then, my elbows resting lightly on the tabletop, and fold my hands loosely. “I can’t change what I said. And I can’t erase what I did. But I want to rewrite what I can. One moment at a

    time.”

    La’s mouth curves just a little. Not into a smile exactly. But something quieter. A sign that she’s thawing towards me.

    “You want to rewrite history?” she asks.

    “No,” I say, shaking my head. “Just the ending. Our ending.”

    A breeze filters in through the open patio doors nearby, carrying the faint scent of citrus and salt from the restaurant’s kitchen. I watch as her fingers brush over the condensation on her ss before they drift across the table towards mine.

    And I meet her halfway.

    Our hands don’t sp onto the other one’s; they just rest there, close, our fingers barely touching. But the spark from that near–contact hums like something alive between us.

    And deep down, I selfishly hope that spark will eventually turn into a raging inferno.

    La eats almost two–thirds of the dessert as she sips on her drink, while I have trouble keeping my eyes off her. The mood at the table is lighter, but definitely more charged.

    After I’ve paid our bill, the walk back to my car is quiet, but it’s not the heavy kind anymore.

    There’s something easy in her silence now, as her arm brushes mine once, twice, like she’s testing the space between us. I don’t pull away, though. I just keep pace beside her as the street noises hum softly around us and the breeze lifts the edge of her dress,

    When we reach the spot I parked, I walk ahead to open her door for her. She pauses before getting inb, /bher left hand resting on the door frameb, /band her body angled just slightly towards mine. I watch as bthe /bsunlight catches her hair and turns it into a melted–chocte brown at the ends.

    bShe /blooks up at me then, not smiling per se, but not guarded either. Something else lives in bthat /bbgaze /bof hers now. Something I haven’t earned, but sho’s offering me anyway.

    b19:46 /bbMon/bb, /bbSep 15 /b

    Chapter 133: Xavier POV

    :

    Forgivenessb, /bmaybe. A thread bof /bhope. Or just…peace.

    ? 03

    bI /breach for her right hand and curl my fingers gently around hers. And then I do what I’ve done a bfew /btimes before. But this time? It feels different.

    I lean in and press a lingering kiss to her forehead. It’s slow and steady. It’s a breath held between ollibus/bb. /b/li/ol

    She closes her eyes for the smallest second–just one–as my lips rest against her sun–kissed skin. And when I pull back after a beat, she looks up at me with something quiet and strong in her voice.

    “So…is this the end of the apology tour, Mr. Reed?”

    I huff out a softugh, my thumb brushing over the back of her knuckles. “Not even close, Ms. Kincaid.”

    She arches a brow, then adds yfully, “Good. Because I think I want to see how far you’re willing to go.b” /b

    I step back then, allowing her to slide into the seat, and close the door gently behind her.

    And bas /bI walk to my side of the car, I let myself hope–for the first time in a long time–that I’m not bjust /brewriting our ending.

    But that I might be writing something entirely new.

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